“At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.”
– Albert Schweitzer
The night before, I hadn’t slept because I had been up fighting with the boy I desperately loved. I’d found ‘Suzanne’s’ phone number in the pocket of my boyfriend’s jeans after he had not come the previous the night from our favorite nightclub, “Luv-A-Fair.” How ironic. Not only was he was completely unapologetic, but he was angry at me for discovering his indiscretion! When I dragged my tired, sorry ass into work that blustery morning, my smarmy boss, a married movie producer who treated me like garbage, informed me that I had been replaced by a younger, blonder version of myself – one who hadn’t shunned his sexual advances as I had for the past year. I tolerated his cruel misogyny only because I was young and naive and I wanted to work in the film industry so badly that I thought if I didn’t endure his disgusting abuse, I would lose my future altogether. As I locked up the office at the end of the day, I felt sadder than I had for a very long time. Hollow. I wanted to go home, curl up into a ball, and disappear.
The deluge outside was coming down so fast I couldn’t believe it was actually possible for it to rain that hard. It was fitting that I didn’t have an umbrella that dark day. “That’s about right,” I thought. In that frame of mind, I accepted my bleak fate. I figured it was just how my life was going to be from now on – that somehow it was appropriate that I was being rained on, and that I was getting exactly as I deserved. My shoulders dropped and hunched in as I was completely exposed to the torrential downpour. The massive drops splashed across my melancholy face, and the tears streaming down my cheeks were picked up and carried down rivers of rain on my skin, hanging precariously off my trembling chin until they slammed down onto the cobblestone streets of Gastown. I was grateful for the monsoon so I could weep profoundly, and my tears would be concealed from the dismal world at large.
Soggy, cold, dejected and lonely, I shuffled along the puddled streets, asking myself over and over again: “A fire used to burn so brightly inside… Where did it go? Why has my fire burned out? Where is the spark I once had that made me fearless to live life fully? To challenge myself and overcome diversity? To conquer anything?” These were very real and serious questions to me. I had lost the old me. At 27, I just felt like a loser with squishy shoes, heels worn down to the nail, who was almost out of a job and wouldn’t be able to feed my cat – my only friend. All the way to the bus stop I ran it over and over in my mind… Where is my fire? Where did I go?”
When the city bus finally pulled up, I saw that it was packed like sardines. Wet, sweaty sardines with oversized backpacks, too much perfume and stinking armpits. My long blonde hair was drenched and heavy, dripping and pressing flat against my skin… my mascara running like big black spiders on my vacant face. I shuffled in to take my place amidst the jostling downtown commuters. I had a long way to go.
Aware that I would have to stand at the front of the crowded bus, squeezed between damp bodies and briefcases, I glanced around, searching the faces of everyone who I thought must have a better life than me. That’s when I saw it – far in the back of the bus – an empty seat. Surprised, my eyes traveled to the occupant beside it and I understood immediately why no one else was sitting there. He was fat and unwashed, probably in his forties but looked like seventy, his hands blackened and calloused, clothing stenching and torn. His beard was a product of zero hygiene and his bulbous nose gave away his lifelong relationship with alcohol. He looked disgusting. “Perfect,” I thought. “Next to him is exactly where I belong.” I pushed my way to the back and sat down, overwhelmed by the reek of stale booze. I settled in.
It was an eternity on that bus, and I had the feeling of being in suspended animation as the buildings rushed by, blurring my stinging, swollen eyes. Each stop, door opening, closing, I stared into the nothingness, continuing to wonder where the fire was that had once burned within.
When we finally reached my destination, I reached for my bag and began to rise out of my seat. That’s when the old bum turned and looked right through me with his soft, kind blue eyes. The icy cold blood in my veins warmed instantly, as an electric current poured from him into me. I gave him a faint smile – all that I could muster – and I swear what happened next is completely true…
He began to speak, uttering twelve words that forever changed me. In his deep, gravely voice, he whispered, “You have a fire inside of you. Don’t you ever forget that.” I shivered.
Paralyzed, I had no words to speak, and there was no need to. He knew I knew. I knew he knew. It was like that. In that moment on the idling bus, time stood still… and I was transformed. I understood that it was all bigger than me. That I was connected to everything – to The Universe, to the drunk on the bus. Everything. He was not sitting there next to that empty seat by accident. No way. I thanked him and his blue eyes smiled gently at me.
I stepped off the bus and deeply inhaled the fresh ocean air after the rain had subsided. The clouds lifted… and so did my heavy heart. There was clearing of blue in the sky, and as I stood there watching as the bus pulled away, my bus mate stared straight ahead to ride out his own journey. My spark was reignited that day, and the fire within me blazes brightly still… and I will never, ever forget my angel.
American Mary is grotesque and demented, telling a twisted and far-reaching, yet strangely viable tale that keeps you wanting to delve more deeply into the insanely warped subculture of extreme surgical procedures, spawning what is sure to become a cult classic horror film, written and directed by Jen and Sylvia, The Soska Sisters.
What would you do if your teachers turned out to be the sickest f#@ks of all and you were down on your luck and money? What if the opportunity that knocks is the seedy underbelly of a twisted reality, and the usual lifestyle is a sickening deluge of plastic surgery and body modification taken to its contorted hilt where money is no object and the bizarre is the norm? In American Mary, it is the teachers who are the monsters, and the medical student who becomes the victim… becomes the master… becomes the monster.
Mary’s disposition moves from blasé, to a melancholic detachment that I found to be, most disturbingly of all… relatable. When I realized that I actually understood why she was using gruesome methods to systematically amputate and deform deserving candidates, that is what frightened me the most. As she exacted her revenge, giving the sadistic predator his comeuppance in an excruciating fashion, I cringed with revulsion and wondered with curious anticipation what nefarious deed she was going to execute next.
When it came time to perform a complicated arm exchange surgery on a set of erotically perverse twins who seeked her out for their abomination of a dream operation, chillingly played by the twisted Soska Sisters themselves, Mary knew she would need some medical assistance. She asked Billy in her low, gravely voice… (paraphrasing) Mary: “Do you know anybody who’s good?” Billy: “I know someone who is really terrible that owes me a favor.” Enter Marius Soska, the twins’ father, producer and actor, lending yet another creepy element to the film.
Katherine Isabelle who stars as Mary Mason, gave an engaging performance. She has a profoundness to her… A penetrating, far off look in her eyes that makes you feel her cool determination, but keeps you at a mysterious distance. She had a powerful, “don’t f#@k with me” presence onscreen, while still allowing you a glimpse inside her vulnerability. Perfectly cast, she can now be elevated into scream queen royalty… No one could have captured Mary better.
Tristan Risk was spot on as Beatrice, a weird, over processed Betty Boop character who’s delightfully freakish performance was flawless. I know the real Miss Risk up close, and you would never in a million years know it was her behind those round black cartoon eyes. She was completely absorbed in every way, disappearing into this sympathetic character… Her high pitched voice, and 1920’s Brooklyn accent were astonishing.
Billy Barker, played to perfection by Antonio Cupo, is the man behind the The Filth, the basement bar where Beatrice dances and the heartbeat of the diabolical surgery. He hints at a Mark Ruffalo’s demented alter ego, believable and dirty yet strangely likable in a perverse way, like most of the characters.
I haven’t seen anything as compellingly grotesque since Dead Ringer and as original as Naked Lunch. Shot in a highly artistic and stylized way that elevates the quality of the film and belies its limited budget indie status, it still has an indie horror flick feel, and welcomes you onto a voyeuristic trip into to the fascinating world of body modification and beyond.
For those practicing body mod in the film, and clients of Mary (who had gained star status as the “go to” body mod doctor) it was unsensationalistic, really – it was what it was – an accepted practice in the film, almost as though the body modification was itself a character.
The special effects were grizzly and spectacular! Everything about the gruesome spectacles were believable, and they took it as far as they wanted it to go. Chunks of bloody vaginal bits falling to the floor, horn implants and split tongues, and corset laced backs were de rigueur for this film. The special f/x makeup was beyond brilliant and the body prosthetics and sculptures were masterpieces worthy of their place in gore history.
American Mary is a must see for the warped minded, and a horror film that will make the flesh crawl right off your back…
After the screening, I chatted with two wonderful local actors, Clay St. Thomas and Nelson Wong, who played Dr. Walsh and Dr. Black, and the amazingly supportive and cool parents of Jen and Sylvia Soska, who also happen to be the producers of American Mary and fantastic actors in the film. The rest of the cast was in Los Angeles for their lavish premier at Mann’s Chinese Theatre in Hollywood!
Clay St. Thomas and Nelson Wong
Agnes and Marius Soska
Special thanks to Corrine Lea at The Rio Theatre for a fantastic premier, and her tireless efforts to celebrate and support the Vancouver Arts and Film Community!
Attending The Vancouver International Burlesque Festival was like stepping under The Big Top for the deliciously naughty… right down to the cheeky monkey and the organ grinder! Candy little girl? Yes please! Sweet treats came in all flavors, shapes and sizes as the most talented gems from around the globe came together and shimmied their way into our hearts! From the poignantly moving to the my-face-hurts-because-I’m-smiling-so-hard absurdities, nothing could be more entertaining than these provocative gents in their scandalous skivvies, and alluring ladies prolonging that hotly anticipated snap of a stocking from their pointed toes. Vampy, trampy, classy, sassy and elegantly engaging, every performer was a jewel in the crown of the Little Vancouver Burlesque Festival that could. The saucy event is all grown up now, and showcased a bevy of sumptuous creatures – each bestowing upon us all they’ve got – and that’s a lot! Every costume was a confection as unique and extravagantly detailed as the one before, while the lavish lineup came pouring out like hankies from a magician’s pocket.
Curvaceous cutie Crystal Precious, mega talented dream girl and queen of her signature “Striphop,” (whose recent video “Apple Pie” showcases her creative brilliance) radiantly emceed the first two thirds of the evening. In a red and nude trademark Misty Greer underboob cutout gown, she got on with the show by quipping, “Good evening Sasspots, I hope you’re making your way to your seat ‘cause you’re going to be sitting on the edge of it! Mmmmmmkay?”
And darlings, she was oh, so right! She instructed us to “Pay attention!” Yes ma’am! We obeyed our Mistress of Ceremonies, slipped into our seats, sipped our cocktails and settled in for a thrill ride. It went a little something like this…
Friday
Villainy Loveless lit the night on fire. Her sizzling act opened the show in a red-hot dress with a flame job licking up her bountiful bosom, and burning up the stage with sweet jazz. Loveless swiveled her hips to “I’m a Hot Mama,” and heated things up with fiery flowing silk fans, dancing and flickering straight up in the air… Villainy knew exactly how to fan the flames to our deepest desires.
Ruth Ordare provided a touching performance as a pretty broken doll in a blue dress who was carried onstage by a man we believed loved her, only to drop her with a thud and leave her alone in a crumpled puddle… we were very sad for her. She pulled our spirits back up as she danced around in her striped knee socks and red ruffled bottom panties… but alas, she could not hide her true feelings as she revealed a giant sparkling red heart pastie over her left breast, and peeled away half of her broken heart.
Calgary’s Miyuki Divine offered up a Japanese Western feeling. Her skill at unlacing and popping open her red silk corset was rivaled only by her expertise at fan flipping, spinning, and her ass shaking shimmy – coaxing the long red fringe to dance across her lovely tush. The subtle raise of her eyebrow enchanted the adoring crowd. Such a tease!
April O’Peel and Whatshername were a scream! Comedy is alive and well in burlesque, and this is by far the funniest act I have seen so far! Suited up in a furry monkey bikini and a moustached man in a bowler hat, these two had the audience squealing in delight! Hilarity ensued when they pulled accordians out of their boobs, booties, and *ahem* there too! They played those squeeze boxes ferverently while the crowd went wild! Cheeky, cheeky, monkey!
Sexy Olatsa Assin from Seattle carried a dramatic element to her performance, seducing us with her cloud-like white tulle boa, her body reverberating in a dubstep dance, culminating with a long shake of her superlative bottom swishing fringe like a silky car wash. That was the first time of many that the fawning man sitting directly behind me cooed in his deep, breathy voice… “Yeeeah, Baby!”
Next up, the Vogue stage was chock-full of Dirty Vanities: an entire tribe of hot, nearly naked, cannabalistic female savages preparing boylesque favorite Tranny Zuko for dinner. Wicked choreography had these voracious headhunters dancing thriller-style in perfect sync, parading Zuko over their wildly coiffed heads to his ultimate demise. He survived, of course, but if you have to be eaten, these are the ferocious babes you want nibbling on your flesh!
The darling, gum-booted Cheesecake Burlesque Revue from the oft times drizzly Victoria, cast off their sparkly raincoats and twirled their hot pink umbrellas while we cheered for them to reveal their sunflower laden bikinis and bring the sunshine into the night!
Seattle’s Glitter Goddess Persephone Illyri in figure hugging baby blue satin, had a southern style decadence that was smokier than a Memphis blues bar and as smooth as fine scotch. She is a master of the strip tease. In true vaudevillian fashion, she unlaced her corset to free her ravishing body, embraced her long white boa, and twirled and tossed her glove with style… She exuded true femininity and elegance.
Move over Fembots! The Hot Pants bopped onto the stage with a punch of sixties sass and shiny white Go Go Boots – energetically shaking their pastel fringes, paying homage to the Go Go’s “We Got The Beat!” These sexpots put on a show that Austin Powers could only have described as “Groovy Baby!” Oh behave!
Nicky Ninedoors and John Ninedoors eased the crowd into a sultry French salon. He on his stand up bass, plucking deep, vibrating notes… and she a sultry songbird, flawlessly belting out the aria ‘Habanera’ from Carmen, captivating us with her pretty voice and stripping down from her scintillating gown to her vixen stockings and glittering red, t-strap mary janes. Bending all the way over to share her perfect derriere with the audience, she reached up through the centre of her luscious legs to slip off her panties in the most provocative fashion imaginable! Ooh la la Madame Ninedoors!
Wrong Note Rusty made working with a box full of paperwork so erotic it should have been criminal. As he loosened his tie and dropped his suspenders, we had to catch our breaths! He went on to reveal a toned chest a secretary would surely want to run her slowly pencil down! He rolled up his sleeves, tossed his shoes across the stage and peeled his socks off as well as any seasoned diva. Rusty proceeded to briskly shake his bottom line… It was a hot, hot night at the office!
“The Original Triple Mocha Latte” laid it out up front:“My Momma told me never to give it away!” Stacked in all the right places, wild child Foxy Tann took the stage in a teeny-weeny, skin-tight minidress and a sky-high afro. With a cocktail perpetually in one hand , a wickedly huge smile and a palm sized blinged-out “mary-jane” medallion necklace, she made no secret of her fondness of BC green. She was profane, unapologetic and funny as hell! With the commanding presence of a dirty evangelist, she preached to the choir and the whole damn congregation with her performance of “You ain’t getting not a goddam thing around here for free!” and Hallelujah, we ate it up! Miss Tann co-hosted the event both evenings and gave us big, beautiful, booty shaking show that fortunately for us, can never be unseen!
Burlesque Star Shannon Doah’s version of “Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat” whipped up her worshippers! She prowled like a sexy feline, seductively licking her long leg with the tip of her tongue. With a career that spans 40 years, her body is still as stellar as it must have been when she starred in the original Crazy Horse Saloon once upon a time. Her chaise lounge, fan and boa “Never on a Sunday” routine, was both stirred and shaken. She wrapped up her performance with an awe inspiring tassel twirl!
When you talk about original, you must be referring to outlandish Gorelesque virtuoso, Bloody Betty. A deranged girl with oversize stitches tattooed around the circumference of her right breast, she is dedicated to her twisted craft. She treated us to a frantic drug induced frenzy, freaking out in a paranoid mania to Oingo Boingo’s “Controller.” Betty slashed open her plastic bag of white powder and shook it into the toilet; panicking at what she had done, she snorted it back up! The psychosis escalated until she finally injected herself in the arm and collapsed dead to the ground! That’s just Bloody Betty on another berserk and demented jag! She’s got bats in the belfry, Baby!
“There’s someone knockin’ on my door I think they’re looking for me, I think they’re looking for me. Pretend there ain’t nobody home… Don’t make a sound, don’t even move… Don’t give them nothing to see… I think they’re looking for me. I got to run, I got to run, I got to run…” – Oingo Boingo
The room transformed into a soft, lunar lit evening when incandescent Lydia DeCarlo draped herself around her sparkling crescent moon… biting off her gloves with perfect white teeth, a come hither snarl, and a beckoning wink to “My Momma Done Told Me…” her sultry, deep red lips shimmering as brightly as the stars. Stretched out on her long boa tipped with foxtails and glittering silver balls, DeCarlo was as steamy as a hot August New Orleans night.
Burlesque photographer extraordinaire Voodoo Bill, commented before the show that he was going to switch his camera to the fast lens “Cherry On Top” setting… because she never stops moving! Clearly adored by her disciples, the audience screamed and applauded at a fever pitch when she hit the stage sporting a Fifth Element-esque astronaut costume and helmet, hip-hopping her white space suit off with unmatched intensity! Cherry was out of this world!
That was a tough act to follow, but Minnesota’s Red Bone played it white collar cool in her silky suit and fedora, blowing on her bluesy harmonica and slipping off her tie like she meant serious business. Hostile takeover anyone?
The reigning King of Burlesque Russell Bruner, looked every bit like a silent film scoundrel when he rolled out in his pinstriped zoot suit, top hat and Snidely Whiplash moustache. His melodramatic, black rimmed eyes and villianous expressions charmed me enough to want him to tie me to the train tracks! He flipped his topper and swayed with his coat rack, but when he jumped offstage and had the ladies on the floor use his suspenders to slingshot him out of his trousers, we were out of control! With a skillful tuck of his nether regions, he gave us a little dance, an eyeful of wishful thinking, and just like “that” he hung his stovepipe on his “you know what!” Yes he did! The dastardly rascal was born for the stage!
Saturday
The wonderfully witty and much adored Purrrfessor, co-producer and emcee of Vancouver’s beloved Kitty Nights, opened the show on Saturday Night with his mysteriously fetching accent and acoustic guitar. He welcomed the Board of Directors to the stage who along with himself, put the entire extravagant Burlesque Festival together. The Purrrfessor is a master host with the perfect knack for finessing the live stage, throwing us jokes like, “Do you know what a stripper does with her bum before she goes to work? She drops him off at band practice!” Badumching!
Everything was coming up roses when Melody Mangler glided her way to centre stage, adorned in a bell jar shaped skirt enveloped in lavish red posies, with a blossoming bosom to match. As decadently lovely as it was, she soon slipped out of her flower bell and into our fantasies with her smoldering gaze, green sequins and chartreuse chiffon – twirling round and round while seductively unlacing her sparkling corset. With a ba boom, ba boom, Mangler and the giant snake tattoo wrapped around her left thigh, draped themselves onto a chair and into a spectacular upside down backbend. With a passionate tassel twirl, and a glimpse of her red paillet panties, the flaming haired vixen bid us sweet adieu.
Enter Tarantino from Nelson, BC… His 6th burlesque performance ever began with a top hat and tails, and a purple silk hanky that with a little *abracadabra* turned into a magician’s cane. But as he reached into his hat… what? No white rabbit? Hmmm… “Where could it have gone?” He excited our inner Brat Pack when he soft-shoed to Sinatra – pulling his shirt ruffles, up, up and up some more until… a long feather boa emerged teasingly from his trousers! Whoa! C’est magique! He hocus pocused us all the way down to his… Wait! What is that fluffy bulge? Oh! Hello, Mister Bunny!
As the purrrfessor put it, even World War II can be sexy – if it’s the Kabuki Guns Burlesque, that is. This wartime group of gals in their blue jumpsuits took us to a bygone era with an Andrews Sisters jitterbug-style performance, captivating with their hip-to-hip partner dancing and tight formation changes… finally blasting us with a confetti cannon! Any soldier would go AWOL for these dolls!
Gorgeous Aussie redhead Strawberry Siren ran away and joined the Fruit Fly Circus – the world’s only child circus – at the tender age of eleven. After twenty years with that company, she was a sight to behold on our very own Vancouver stage… sashaying to a jazz trumpet in a lavishly ruffled emerald green gown, capelet and floral fascinator. But she seemed so very, very hot… poor thing… What to do? Slipping out of her skirt, unlacing her corset with a wink an a smile while a flurry of petals poured out of it, she tantalizingly peeled away the sumptuous layers – revealing an extravagantly flowered vine, wrapping itself around her body like an adornment from the Garden of Eden. If anyone would want to sin with a forbidden fruit, it would be with The Strawberry Siren.
Adorable Connie Cahoots was the cutest thing I have ever seen! In true Charlie Chaplin style, she captured perfectly the essence of his loveable spirit and innocent charm. That little Lady who was ‘The Tramp’ tried her very best to solve the puzzle of what those sticky things with long tassels were all about! With perfect comedic timing, she tried everything she could think of, including sticking them to her eyes to see if that would work… Nope… until at long last, she lit up like a Christmas tree when she realized they could adhere to her bosoms and twirl, twirl, twirl! A brilliant performance by Cahoots led to uproarious applause and she thanked us by dropping her drawers!
The mirror image duo of Villainy Loveless and Ruth Ordare brought chills and misty eyes as we were drawn inside the love/hate relationship that is inner turmoil and self-love. In their glittering white gowns, these two blonde bombshells passionately explored the deepest regions of their one collective psyche. She fought herself aggressively and angrily, hating her reflection, but then… empathy, compassion and sensuality poured freely as both sides flowed together like gossamer butterflies. Gently wrapping herself up in silky bandages, then finding freedom from her own restraints and gazing deeply inside her own eyes… she surrendered to herself with a soft kiss… Breathtakingly beautiful.
Raven Virginia, a delicate ballerina in a fluffy tutu, twirled and fluttered on her pink pointed toes to ‘The Dance of The Sugarplum Fairies,’ but when she tasted some hard driving hip hop she was overcome by surprise! It took over her like a wild possession and she become unleashed: grinding, spanking her bottom, throwing herself into the splits! She mercilessly chucked her toe shoes, pulled out her bun, and licked her ravenous lips! Virginia leapt off the stage and gave the bump and grind to unsuspecting spectators at the VIP tables… Careful what you wish for when you get that close to a feral little ballerina!
White smoke crawled across the stage floor aspurpled haired Voracious V – adorned in blue crystal eyebrows, voluminous lips and her one silver thigh high boot, tantalized us in a jazzy haze while she straddled her silver chair. Her Elizabethan collared costume was fantastical! As if by magic, her paniers transformed into flowing purple fans which then morphed into a diaphanous cape. Her jewel encrusted bondage-style body suit and g-string sparkled as it captured the spotlight. She strutted offstage… veiled behind the sheer, flowing silk.
Victoria BC’s “Boxers are Brief Boylesque” offered up magnificent marvels Johnny Bottomsworth and Clam Chowda – a rollicking, comedic Strongman duo. Their high energy acrobatics amazed and amused with a playful rivalry of pushups, wheelbarrows and a glittering gold bar bell schtick. Part circus act and part athletic wonders, Johnny and Clam provided delightfully powerful entertainment! Worthy of their own side show caravan, these two carnies could wrestle lions and tigers and bears! Oh my!
Beguiling beauty August Wiledperformed a sophisticated number called “Addicted.” She wore a french chignon with a veiled fascinator and a black lace bodysuit that she peeled off inch by inch, slowly unzipping the back of her long, swanky legs. Her routine in smoky blue light left us hooked as she elegantly draped herself over her chair. Addicting indeed…
Belly dancers and multi-dimensional entertainers Luciterra and Chris Murdoch, were a highly stylized group demonstrating flawless choreography! In their black and silver pirate pants, they wowed us – performing to a deep bass rave sound with mad skills in juggling and acrobatics… one double jointed member blew our minds by locking her arms behind her back and pulling them over her head to the front of her body! It was a wonderful show by this troupe who I earnestly recommend you see any chance you get!
When the girls from The Cheesecake Burlesque Review traveled to do a show in Nelson, they asked BC’s own Burlesque legend Judith Stein if she would like to perform with them. Having not graced the stage for twenty five years, she agreed to fluff her feathers and slip into her fishnets. ‘Silk E Gunz’ told me, “Three years ago she rocked the Burlesque Festival where people were pounding on their seats and on the stage – loving her – and she’s been traveling, enjoying it, and doing workshops ever since.”
Stein entered the stage as she did in the 1970’s – with confidence and command. She skillfully played with the boys in the front row, effortlessly working her massive turkey feather boa and showing her devotees – all the way down to her twirling pasties – how it’s done. She still looked amazing and inspired us all to leap out of our seats into a roaring Standing O.
Judith chatted with me after the show: “What burlesque was to me, back in my day, was that I got to travel! I got to make a lot of money, I got to have sequins and fans and feathers, but most of all I got to travel… and they paid me for it! I’ll take it from The Rolling Stones: “I know, it’s only rock and roll but I liiiiike it!’” She tossed her head back and let out a long, deep, throaty laugh.
Burgundy Brixx just makes me happy! When she takes to the stage, the fiery redhead radiates absolute joy, and her creativity and sense of humor know no bounds! A vivacious vixen from New York CIty, Brixx keeps her talents here in Vancouver, and for those of us who just can’t get enough she shares her passion by co-producing and hosting Kitty Nights West! At the Burlesque Festival, she shone as brightly as the sun with her grand, circular headdress and a startling gold costume featuring a yellow and white peacock tail… but with a flick of her artful wrist, she finessed it into a set of fluffy fans that she flaunted with panache! She took us jubilantly down to her bare necessities where a smiling happy face on her… *meow* brought lively cheers from the crowd! Exuding light and inspiring all with her prowess and command of the stage, Burgundy Brixx makes the world a happier place!
Razzle Dazzle Tease, a black X-nippled, braided hair trio, guided us into the taboo world of bondage: pulling, wrapping and twisting each other in perfect sync using nothing more than their wicked talent and a few strips of spandex. Their hypnotizing dance echoed the act of mutual mastery and erotic asphyxiation. Gasp!
Stunning Lady Josephine entered the stage in her black Steampunk costume, opening her performance with eerie music setting a Hitchcockian mood. Building to a full blown symphony, the graceful time traveler revealed the sweetest little butterfly flitting gently on her finger. Enchanted, she marveled at the delicate creature, put it to her parting black lips as if to kiss its soft wings, and devoured it… chewing and swallowing it whole! We reveled in her carnivorous appetite and watched in wonder as she used her mechanical moves to slip out of her gear grinding getup into a risque little number that made us forget all about her mastication of the pretty little bug.
VaVaVunderbust, you wild tiger, you!When Foxy Tann promised we would see something we’ve never seen before, it was fun to imagine. What with this crowd could possibly prove that to be true? We delighted in anticipation when Vunderbust hit centre stage in her orange and black fun fur tiger dress that reminded me of my favorite ice cream, then shimmying in long black fringe to the beat of Miami Sound Machine’s “Do The Conga.” There was a conga drum downstage… waiting… The beats got stronger and with jungle fever she stripped down to her green tassled boobs of plenty, took them in her hands and banged on that drum! Grrr, tiger, grrr! Her percussive talents made the natives restless and completely thrilled by her… instruments!
Lola Frost strutted onto the stage with a blue kimono, a champagne bottle, a long stemmed glass… and scorching bedroom eyes. She melted us right from the start, and it was the sort of party we all wanted to be at with this powerhouse of a burlesque diva. She was sultry and moody – her facial expressions the epitome of pleasure and pain. I bit my lip as she slid into long, slow splits and proceeded to pull off her stocking… slowly… slowly… snapping it off… spilling sparkles all over the stage! But oh no, that was not enough glamour for Miss Frost! Taking her bliss to the next level, she poured out the entire contents of her champagne bottle loaded with gold glitter, and splashed it all over her shimmering body. She shook the theatre to its core! Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets!
Decorated in a voluminous tulle skirt that hugged her tiny, jewel encrusted waist, red haired siren Catherine D’Lish resembled an hourglass dipped in fluffy whipped cream. Oozing sex appeal, she held the room and her giant feather fans in the palm of her hand and we were glued to every nuance of her scintillating show. D’lish was Old Hollywood Glamour personified with an extra dose of Va Va Voom! Pure ambrosia!
What Russell Bruner didn’t see coming was her summoning him back to the stage where she instructed him to unlace her corset, and proceeded to straddle him on the chaise lounge – obliging him to watch closely as she unhooked her opulent underpinnings and liberated her magnificent mammaries! Bruner had a sly look on his face – like a cat with a feather sticking out of its mouth – and together they brought the evening to an exalted crescendo! D’Lish sealed it with a kiss… and the seduction was complete!
It was a lavish weekend to be remembered and cherished. From one end of the artful spectrum to the other, the sheer level of dazzle on the historical Vogue stage was flabbergasting! With charismatic highs, laughs galore and smoking stripteases, the festival brought together magnificent burlesque stars, and the aficionados who love them! Scandalous and cheeky, fun and frothy, sexy and sublime, the spectacle was the cat’s pajamas and the most fun you can have with your clothes on! Hats off to all of the amazing performers who took theirs off, providing us with a rip roaring good time! I will savor every bite of deliciousness that was The Vancouver International Burlesque Festival 2013, and bide my sweet time for next year’s frolic!
My very personal and special thanks to the amazing photographers who contributed their beautiful works of art to this article:
Vancouver Shoe God, John Fluevog, hosted a soleful soiree at his grand store in Gastown Wednesday night. My signature, flared-out heels clicked hurridly down the wet cobblestones of Water Street to get me to the party on time!
John Fluevog
Clusters of red helium balloons stood sentry duty, and as I stepped inside this wonderland of a shoe store, my eyes lit up like sparklers as I could see (across the towering room) the man himself, dressed in a mauve sports jacket and chartreuse sweater, plaid bow tie and exuding his warm, charming smile. Surrounded by well-wishers, John greeted his fans and friends, all putting their best foot forward and celebrating with him on Fluevog Day, also Fluevog’s very own 65th Birthday!
Eldest Son Jonathan Fluevog with TJ Note
Devotees stood stylishly well-heeled, every one of us parading around in our finest funky footwear representing every collection and era, some enthusiastically sharing that they scooped their vintage, impossible-to-find Fluevogs on ebay, others flaunting delicacies from his most recent offerings. One thing was for sure, the common denominator was our collective love for his unique shoes and adoration for the man who’s latest magazine ad slogan states to non-wearers, “No, You’re Weird!” One of the little gifties I received in my swag bag was a set of robins’ egg blue shoelaces with an accompanying sticker that reads, “Embrace Peculiarity.” You’ve gotta love this man!
My wish-list Elizabeths
The highlight of my evening was having the opportunity to share my favorite shoe story with John Fluevog. Blushing a little, and slightly nervous (c’mon, this man designed my shoes for Heaven’s sake!) I spilled it out. On a whirlwind trip to New York Fashion week a few years ago, I picked up my black, pointy-toed “Coffee” collection cuties in his Soho shop, proceeded to a posh lunch at The Plaza Hotel, and took a leisurly horse and carriage ride around Central Park. Inspired by the quote inscribed on the bottom of my strappy slingbacks, “Take the time and do it right,” I was determined to check off a big “must” on my things-to-do-before-I-die list… So, I jumped into a taxi and drove through Wall Street and Chinatown until we arrived at my destination. The driver stopped the car and there it stood before me… I pulled in a deep breath, stepped out of my cab, and took a long, sunny stroll across the Brooklyn Bridge – Statue of Liberty to my right, The Empire State Building to my left – and dammit, my tootsies looked fantastic doing it! Once I was in Brooklyn, I jumped on the Subway back to Manhattan, mailed a postcard to my daughter at the Main Post Office across from Madison Square Garden, hoofed it to Times Square, and back to The Flatiron Hotel where I slipped into the lounge and toasted the day with a perfect Cosmopolitan. It was a dream come true, and I did it in my brand spanking new Fluevogs! And not one blister, only the teeniest scuff on one of my pebble leather toes serving as a keepsake of my Big Apple adventure! John was gracious and seemed to delight in my wistful anecdote.
The Plaza Hotel NYC
Horse and Carriage Ride through Central Park
Walking across The Brooklyn Bridge
The night went on with beverages flowing and sole mates socializing, until it was time to put a lid on the shoebox. What a lovely way to spend an evening, mingling with footwear royalty and those who love his shoes. Superfan Cat Leigh was proudly laced up in her Frontier Hi Hudson boots – one of her seventeen pairs of Fluevogs. On why she has amassed such an impressive and obsessive collection, she says, “I love Fluevogs because the styles are just that little bit (or a lot) different. They don’t appeal to everyone and that appeals to me.” While Jaik, a long-time employee at Fluevog and loving every minute of it, sincerely shared that Fluevog is an ultra supportive and encouraging employer – even more reasons to love the man behind the leather and laces.
Ron and CatCigi and her lovely lavender hair
A couple in their matching Fluevogs
Jaik and friend
As for me, I have my heart set on the emerald green Elizabeths with the sexy wooden heel resembling a decadently scrolled chair leg. A perfect size 7, please. The price tag is not for the faint of heart, but make no mistake, these are works of art and worth every penny. You will be mine my little lovelies… I believe in The Shoe Fairy… and I believe in Fluevogs!
For more of John Fluevog’s amazing story, click on the above photo, and read the history that has made Fluevog into what it is today.
It was all glitz and high glamour during The Miss World Canada Pageant Crowning at The River Rock Theatre Thursday night. The red carpet was rolled out for the VIP attendees and visiting royalty, expertly posing – hand on one hip – for the copious cameras. We nibbled on canapes and chatted cheerfully, eager to watch the polished young ladies who would be gracing the stage competing for the honourable position of Canada’s Good-Will Ambassador representing Variety – The Children’s Charity – a global foundation dedicated to enriching the lives of children. Together with pianist Roy Tan, Vancouver sensation Rosemary Siemens captivated with her haunting violin as we rubbed shoulders with the beautiful people, ultimately flowing into the theatre to settle into our seats.
Comedian Greg Kettner’s earnest levity broke the ice, drawing a few laughs and nicely warming up the crowd. The pageant then got underway, competently emceed by delightful Novus TV personality Natalie Langston (herself going through several gown changes, many custom made by designers Gianna Maanaki and Nazanin Gheitasian) and Sportcentre’s Bryan Mudryk, a childhood cancer survivor and tireless fundraiser for the cause. Of her experience co-hosting the event, Miss Langston shared, “Bryan cracks me up, he kept me laughing the entire night. I really think we played well off of each other and made a great team while putting on a funny and entertaining show that the audience would love.” It was Mr. World 2012 Frankie Cena, however, who truly stole the show with his velvety, swoon-worthy performance of Edwin McCain’s “I’ll Be.”
The young women dazzled as they glided across the stage in their jewel toned, sparkling evening gowns, serenaded by the soulful voice of Warren Dean Flandez, paraded before us confidently in the enviable swimsuit competition, and captivated us with their individual talents ranging from a perfect piano arrangement by standout and finalist Anastasia Lin – a woman deeply devoted to religious freedom, to Nicole Johnston, a professional contortionist sporting a flame inspired leotard and red feather fan – also an ardent anti-bullying advocate.
These sixteen ladies chosen from the original thirty-six delegates, hailing from every corner of our country, demonstrated tremendous charisma and poise, which was especially evident during the excessively difficult questions asked of the finalists. Some, understandably nervous (and yes, we heard one trembling voice ask “Um, can you please repeat the question?”) to others well-versed, confident and passionate about the big topics like human rights, pipelines, and politics – one flooring us all with her well-rehearsed quote by John Diefenbaker.
Miss World Canada 2012, stunning Tara Teng, was impressive, delivering a powerful speech about what it meant for her to wear the towering crown. Tara said of her experience, “It has been a humbling honour to dedicate my reign to raising the cry for freedom even louder, serving exploited women and children across Canada and in some of the poorest and most remote places of the world. I have learnt how much responsibility comes with leadership and been inspired by my generation rising up for a more just future.”
One notable snafu served to shake things up when Mudryk mistakenly confused fourth place with fourth runner up. After having awarded several of the contestants their bouquets and sashes, the crowd held its collective breath, wondering what the confusion was all about as the girls were directed offstage, asked to remove their sashes, and returned to the stage for a do over. And the winner was…
Future law student, classical ballet teacher, actress and model Camille Munro of Regina, Saskatchewan, was definitively deserving of the title Miss World Canada 2013. She accepted her glittering crown graciously, and we vigorously applauded her efforts while they slipped the sash over her flowing, tangerine dream gown. Elegant Munro will now step into her new position as ambassador and role model. She will commence her year-long journey into leadership, as well as enjoy her numerous scholarships and prizes, including her all expense paid trip to Jakarta, Indonesia where she will represent Canada in The Miss World Pageant.
I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge the prestigious panel of judges: Nicole Watson, Veronica Chail, Vancouver “Housewife” Robin Reichman, Nassir Karmali, Tiger Zhang, Maureen Francisco, Dean P. Davidson, John Halani, Sandra Lowe, Dan Caldwell, and Special Judges Richard Wong and Miss World Canada’s official gown designer, Sandra Sung. Bravo to this esteemed group for making some truly difficult decisions!
Après show, the venue was abuzz with excitement! Flashbulbs exploded as the contestants and the newly crowned Miss World Canada mingled, smiled for the photographers and celebrated with the jubilant crowd. It was wonderful to see many of society’s finest, including Style Specialist Cynthia Pace and Marketing Maven Frances Hui in their elements.
All in all, it was an enchanting evening with vibrant, gorgeous young women aiming to make the world a little bit better, and doing it with intellect, talent, grace and panache.
Special thanks to super Producer Andy Chu for a monumental job well done, and to Jaala Wanless, Director of Beauty, for extending my VIP invitation. It’s been a long while since I was that little girl with stars in my eyes, sitting with my Nana on our sofa (writing tablets and pens at the ready) voting for our favorite beauty queens on television. It was a full circle moment, and beautiful in every way.
*** Follow this link for more beautiful images of the Miss World Pageant ***
This morning I spent a few minutes touching up a picture of myself on Photoshop. At first I did it just to crop and clean it up a little, and then I decided to have some fun with it. Nothing serious, really, just smoothing out a little here, brightening up a little there… What could be the harm in that?
Well, once I got started, it was hard to stop. It’s addicting, actually. Once I had whitened my teeth to epic proportions, and given that reflection in my eyes more of a dazzling sparkle, the results were impressive. Very Movie Star. In other words, pretty fake.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved the results (it was much cheaper and easier than an uncomfortable bleaching and an hour spent trapped in the dentist’s chair), but as I toggled back and forth between the “before and after” shots, what happened inside my brain was quite surprising. When looking at the original, wrinkles and all, I recoiled in horror. Remember, this was a photo that before the transformation process began, I actually liked. Now, however, it would never do. When I went back to the new and improved version, I had to shield my eyes from my overly white teeth gleaming back at me, looking oddly unnatural and as blinding as a solar flare! But then, the most amazing thing happened… My eyes began adjusting to the perfected me, and before I knew it, I was completely accustomed to my new look. I had let that genie out of the bottle and there was no stuffing it back in! So there it was… after having effectively brainwashed myself into thinking that’s how I now actually appear in real life, it simply began looking more normal and wonderful. Yay! Psych! The question is, was this imaginary improvement really creating a better me? I’ll admit, it looks better, but it’s still me. Same girl. In real life, my smile is not perfect, but it’s pretty great… At least I have things to smile about. That’s the most important thing after all. Still, is anything we do to “fix” ourselves ever really good enough anymore? Of course, but you have to know when to stop.
Then it occurred to me that I had an opportunity for a real “Teachable Moment.” I called my daughter into the room so I could give her a lesson on what I’ll call, “Real Mommy before Photoshop / Cover Model Mommy after Photoshop.” Her reaction was a cross between interested, laissez faire, and instructional, offering the following comments: “Cool, Mom, I know models in magazines don’t actually look like that in real life,” and, “Can I go now?” and, “It would look better if you smoothed under your eyes a little bit more. Here, I’ll do it for you.” It turns out my eleven-year-old is better at Photoshop than I am. She shrugged and smiled and went off to teach herself Japanese on Google Translate. She gets it, and I’m impressed. She will still be bombarded with the same impossible ideals we all are every day, but I hope she can also learn how to play with all of the wonderful tools we enjoy at our fingertips, have fun with them, and still love herself exactly as she is… So far so good…
Ah, kids these days. Perhaps they’re a little more savvy and dialed in than we give them credit for.
Miss Jacqueline 
